Seeing Stars
by kurtelizabeth
Summary: Kurt and Blaine never did get together in high school. Years on, they live together, at least when Kurt is in town. And Blaine has the worst possibly timing to realise that Kurt is gorgeous and that they should've gotten together a very long time ago.


"I have a dream that one day, I will live with people who understand that I need a whole pot of coffee to myself in the morning, rather than people who leave only a whole _cup's worth_ for me."

Rachel Berry is one of the younger people to play Eponine on Broadway, and she sure likes to make sure that everybody knows she is A Broadway Star and needs everything done her way, even at the criticizing of her housemates.

"By starting that with 'I have a dream', I'm pretty sure you just offended countless people in a certain minority," Kurt drawled, stirring a cup of tea, the phone cradled between his shoulder and ear as he looks down over his drawings. "Fell asleep whilst dying in Marius' arms again?"

"Yes," Rachel huffs. "This is the third time it's happened, Kurt! I can't be fired from this role. I could climb from this role to the role of Fantine. And from there, my career will only scale higher." She sighs deeply, and it crackles down the phone. Kurt winces. "You're lucky, Kurt. You have it so easy. You have a job for life and you're friends with _Lady Gaga_. You don't have to go anywhere. You could buy a mansion in a year's time, the way you're earning."

"I like my little flat with Blaine," Kurt murmurs, setting down the tea on a desk seperate from his drawings. He's had too many lost designs by putting them on the same desk. "It's not like I need a mansion, I'm hardly ever here. Anyway, being friends with the woman you work for is terrifying. She expects so much more out of me. I'm designing her dresses for the VMAs right now, and because I'm her date she's told me I have to design my own suits as well, each to match her dresses but not to outshine."

"Kurt," Rachel says, her voice softening, and Kurt straightens up a little, listening harder. "You will always outshine that tiny little woman, regardless." Kurt's chest tightens a little. It's rare to get a genuine word out of Rachel, and when she does say this kind of thing, it makes Kurt miss her - and everyone else from McKinley - terribly.

They're all twenty-two, twenty three now. Rachel does eight shows a week in Les Miserables, Puck is a party-hard songwriter, Finn stars in a small television soap, Mercedes is in the studio recording for her second album - they live together, somehow. Kurt thinks the fact they're all very busy is what makes it work (and what makes the fact that Finn and Rachel are friends despite their ten thousandth nasty break up three months ago believable, as well as the on-off dating of Mercedes and Puck).

Mike and Tina moved to California and run a dance studio together and still do asian camps during the summers. Brittany and Santana still live in Ohio, with Brittany and Santana both heading up cheerleading - Santana at McKinley, Brittany at a different school. Artie still lives in Ohio too, but Kurt doesn't contact him and doesn't know much. Apparantly no one else really talks to him either. Quinn vanished and broke off contact with everyone as soon as she graduated, escaping god-knows-where. Kurt doesn't blame her. She never really got her life back after the baby. Sam came out as bisexual and moved to Canada, nobody really talks to him either.

Kurt took up more dancing, started designing, working for people here and there as soon as he got out of high school and slowly creeping up way up the ladder. Year before last, he hit it big. He managed to get an audition dancing for Gaga, and somehow didn't get cut. He was doodling dresses before his third or fourth show touring with her, trying to keep away the home sickness, and she'd randomly peeked over his shoulder.

Suddenly he'd become not just her dancer and occasional backing singer. They did everything. He sung with her, danced with her, designed her dresses, was her date to every event. He kept grounded, even though fame began to swim around his head. It helped that when he moved to the city he came here with Blaine. Blaine is a teacher - a counselor, actually. They're just friends (despite Rachel's suspicisions) but they live together in a small flat. When Kurt isn't with Gaga, he's with Blaine. It keeps him on earth. Blaine has always managed to keep him down to earth.

Some of them got out of Ohio, some of them didn't. They're all doing better than they expected considering at one point they all thought they'd be Lima Losers. Kurt is proud of them all. Guys like Karofsky are probably cashiers. New Directions - well, they're living the dream, and if they're not, they're living better than they expected. It's hard, though, to not miss the days when they were all together. Kurt sees - and speaks to - Blaine the most and he was never even a McKinley student. He talks to Rachel the most, with her calling him between shows when Kurt is home. He hardly ever sees or speaks to Mercedes. Life just hasn't worked in favour of their social lives.

He hardly ever talks to Burt or Carole, either. He feels guiltiest for that.

"Kurt? Kurt? Are you listening? I paid you a compliment! Listen to me!"

Kurt takes a deep breath and puts on his show smile, hoping Rachel can hear it down the telephone line. "Your kindness stunned me into silence. What's the ulterior motive?"

"I'm offended. I do everything with my friend's best interests at heart."

"You are such a liar," Kurt teases, and he leans back against his desk, picking up his tea and drinking it. "Do you have time to get coffee tomorrow afternoon? Around three. I have to get these designs in before eleven, and attend a tour rehearsal from twelve to two - we're polishing off a new number - but then I'm free. And I miss your hobbit face."

"I can do that," Rachel says, "But you have to buy. I'm the star, remember?"  
Blaine's face pops around the study door, glasses sliding down his nose. "Hey," he mouths, then points to the phone with a questioning look.

"Rachel," Kurt mouths back, then says to her, "You'll be lucky if you even get a large coffee, Rachel. I'm obviously very strapped for cash." The sarcasm seeps from every pore. The flat is inexpensive because he splits the cost with Blaine, and Kurt has forbidden himself from buying new clothes all the time so he has spare cash just floating around that he actually doesn't know what to do with.

"Tell her I said hi," Blaine stage whispers.

"Who was that? Is that Blaine? Am I interuppting something? Is he cooking you dinner or taking you out or something? Kurt!" Rachel's voice turns shrill and he holds the phone away from his ear, wincing. Blaine holds in a laugh, grinning and pushing his glasses up his nose before disappearing.

"You have the hearing of a bat and an equally as terrifying appearance," Kurt deadpans. "I'm not dating him. I've known him for six years, and my answer is still the same as it was six years ago: I'm not dating Blaine. Anyway, he says hi. Or said hi. You scared him off."

"Everyone is intimidated by my talent."

* * *

"Can you unzip me? ... Thank you."

"I love that nobody on the planet except us gets to see Lady Gaga in sweat pants."

"Hush, you. ... Listen, I wanted to tell you this before the rest of the dancers. You know you are a valued member of my Haus."

"Yes."

"They're adding extra dates because the tour is selling out so fast. We now only have two weeks to really nail the routines. That means really long hours dancing. I know you were so excited to have a month that was easy..."

"It's okay. I understand, really. You are phenomenal. It's expected."

* * *

"Blaine?"

He glances up from where he's been watching chicken stew bubble. Home made, the thin, liquidy kind. Usually Blaine prefers thick, creamy soups, but Kurt is getting sick from how hard he's working on Gaga's tour. The past week he's been coming home bleary-eyed, limping, with a new set of cuts or bruises. He keeps finding Kurt asleep in the wet room, just curled up on the floor with the shower raining down on him, water long gone cold. When he wakes Kurt up, Kurt numbly makes a coffee, then goes to work on his designs. And then Blaine finds him asleep over his desk and drags him off to his bedroom.

(Kurt doesn't even remember half the time. He just laughs and says, "I have no idea how I made it to bed last night.")

"Hey, you," Blaine says, folding his arms. "How was practice today?"

"Exhausting," Kurt responds, stepping forward and leaning over the pot. "What's this for?" He asks, breathing in deeply. "God, that smells good."

"It's just dinner," Blaine shrugs. He's figured out, only recently, that he goes above and beyond for Kurt. He makes dinner almost every night that Kurt is home, and whilst Kurt is never really home for long, when he's on his own he sometimes doesn't make himself dinner at all, or it's a microwaved meal. He does Kurt's laundry whilst Kurt sleeps off the jet lag. He makes sure not to use up all the hot water so that Kurt can shower as soon as he's up. Blaine's job isn't that tough and until he started talking to Rachel when her and Finn broke up (Kurt wasn't in the country and she figured Blaine was the next best thing), he thought that it was normal that he'd do this for Kurt, especially with his friend's schedule being so tough. She didn't think so.

"I perform eight shows a week on Broadway and Finn never once did anything like that for me. And we've been dating since high school," Rachel had pointed out, before promptly saying, "We _were_ dating" and breaking down in tears on Blaine's shoulder.

"It looks really good," Kurt repeats, smiling at Blaine. He hitches his loose tee up on his shoulder. "How long til it's done?"

"About twenty minutes," Blaine shrugs. Rachel's comment had got Blaine thinking. He's had a crush on Kurt since the minute they met. He'd tried being flirty until he realised what Kurt was going through. He'd squashed the crush. He wanted only to be Kurt's good friend, a mentor, a guide, someone to help him through. He was still all of that now. He'd entirely forgotten how attractive Kurt was in an effort to be appropriate.

Rachel, though. Damn Rachel with her paranoid, suspicious nature, her loud, babbling nature. She'd reminded him with her constant prompting that they should be dating, with her comments that the way Blaine treats Kurt is the furthest thing from platonic.

He stirs the chicken soup and decides right there and then that he's going to ask Kurt out on a date. Right now. Right here. "Kurt - "

"Yeah?" Kurt smiles, then pauses and turns towards the living room. There's a faint sound. Kurt frowns and says, "That's my phone," and then vanishes. Blaine's shoulders slump and he focuses on the soup. He listens and hears Kurt's bright laughter and sighs. It'll be Rachel or Mercedes; and Kurt will be on the phone to them for hours.

He's not going to ask Kurt tonight, it seems.

Tomorrow, maybe.

* * *

"When are you going to be home? It's late, is all, and I wanted to know if I should make dinner or..."

"I'm sorry. I totally forgot to call when we had a break. Gaga wants me to go to dinner with her and we've got a late fitting for our VMA outfits. Oh, Blaine, I can't wait for you to see them. I've outdone myself. We're going to look_ amazing_. Cook for yourself, yeah?"

"Yeah. Uh. Have a nice dinner, Kurt. I'm sure the clothes look amazing. You always do well."

* * *

Blaine can't believe it when Rachel arrives at the cafe with huge sunglasses on, and a black coat, with a scarf wrapped up to her nose. He recognises her from a mile away - who else holds themselves with that much of an air of superiority? - but she all but ignores him right until she's beside the table, at which point she turns sharply on heel and slides into the seat, looking around before pulling down the scarf, taking off her sunglasses, holding them in both hands as she leans her wrists on the table and leans in, stating in a hushed tone, "This is about Kurt."

Blaine stares at her blankly. "What are you doing?"

Rachel raises her eyebrows at him and says, "Well, obviously, I had to make sure no one was going to recognise me. I can't run the risk of being recognised in public nor can I risk a friend of yours or Kurt's coming by and seeing this conversation."

Blaine frowns.

"If this is about Kurt, you obviously don't want it to get back to him," Rachel babbles on, rolling her eyes like dressing in disguise was the right thing to do. "Do you?"

Blaine's frown deepens but he says, "No, I don't," and decides to let the matter go. He doesn't understand Rachel's logic, but he'll run with it.

"So what's the problem? Have you finally realise you two are made for each other?" She looks far too smug. Blaine's forehead starts to hurt from frowning. "I suggest a candlelit dinner."  
"I was going to ask him out two days ago, but he's been getting busier because it's so close to tour," Blaine confesses. "He's with Gaga all the time. I saw him briefly this morning crawling out of his study to get ready for rehearsals. It's mad. I don't even know if he's sleeping." Rachel raises an eyebrow at him and Blaine realises he's getting off point and says, "I don't know how to ask him out when he's got so much on his plate. It doesn't seem fair on him."

"Try roses," Rachel says confidently. "I'm a Broadway Star, he's the right hand of a pop star and her main dancer. Roses work for me, they'll work for him."

* * *

"I'm so wiped. Hey, what are the flowers for? They're so nice. They liven this place up a little."

"They're for you."

"Really? Oh, Blaine! They're _gorgeous_. I wish I could take them with me tomorrow. Speaking of tomorrow, I wish I could stay up. I'm so wiped though and we hit the road at three in the morning."

"Kurt - I actually wanted to talk to you - "

"It can't wait?"

"... No, you know what? Go on off to bed, Kurt. You need your sleep."

"Thank you, Blaine. Thank you for putting up with me and my crazy lifestyle. I'll make sure not to wake you when I go. I'll call you before the first show and... well. I'll be back in the city for a few days for the VMAs. She's trying to relax her schedule a little so I actually have breathing room. You, me and the others should go for lunch then."

"That sounds like a good idea. Sleep well."

* * *

Gaga always makes Dance In The Dark her second to last song now. It's a long, long way since Kurt first saw her at the Monster Ball when he was sixteen. When he danced and sang in the crowd he never imagined he'd be dancing on the stage itself, dancing with Gaga, behind her, for her, interacting with the crowd. It's a life he could have only dreamed of. He spins and clasps the tiny woman in his arms, and when the final note rings out, he slips away from her and into the darkness.

She's switching things up tonight and playing Born This Way last instead of her current single. She sings the song alone, with her back up singer shrouded in dark with no dancers. The poignant message of the song has always stuck with Kurt, and he's glad that he gets to watch it instead of focus on the steps he needs to make.

It's a beautiful way to end the show, and it has tears streaking down the cheeks of everyone in the room - Gaga and Kurt included. When she runs offstage, she kisses Kurt on the cheek as she goes by, and Kurt claps for her.

They're in Cleveland, Ohio tonight. It feels strange being so close to some of his old friends. Sure, Lima is a good three hours away, but they're in the same state at least. They've got three sold out shows here - Kurt intends to visit Burt and Carole tomorrow during the day time, but he won't be seeing anyone else. He doesn't intend to snub them, he just doesn't have the time. He's pushing it already by going so far to see Burt.

Kurt takes a brief shower and changes from his stage outfit into tailored slacks, a tee and a blazer. It feels like too much just to head to the bus, but as with herself, Gaga expects her Haus to keep up the beautiful, glamourous appearance. He makes sure to style his hair as well as he can, and then he breaks out the back doors.

There are fans clamoured outside as Kurt by now expects. They're all dying to get a glimpse, to touch or have something signed by the Lady herself. She will come out, in a couple of hours when the crowd has died down and she can avoid getting terribly mobbed. A few people wave and one person asks him to sign their tour tee; he takes the sharpie and poses, smiling, for a snap with them. A few people know who he is. The die-hards who will be here long after everyone else has left.

One person, though, as Kurt passes by, calls out specifically to him in a voice that sounds familiar. "Kurt Hummel?"

Kurt turns and blinks. He barely recognises the man stood there, with a five or six year old little girl clinging to his jeans leg. Kurt's shoulders tense up. A very old fear he'd tried to forget resurfaces and starts to hurt in his chest. He swallows hard and finds his voice. "Karofsky."

"Saw you dancing," Karofsky says, and Kurt takes a hesitant step closer. "You're good. I - " He looks lost, grasping at something to say, then gestures at the girl by his side. "I brought my daughter. Her mom raised her on Gaga, and she loves her, so I said I'd bring her... so I did."

Kurt does his best to relax when he realises that yes, there's a little kid there. He can't act terrified in front of somebody's daughter. He smiles and loosens out his shoulders and says to her, "You like Lady Gaga, huh?"

She nods. Kurt smiles and continues, "I dance with her every night. Did you dance to her music tonight? Did you like her show tonight?" She nods again, shly, a grin coming to her face. Kurt can see it, the bits of her father in her. He looks up at Karofsky, uncomfortable, and says, "So... why?" He gestures at himself.

"When her mom wanted me to take her to this she mentioned that one of the dancers used to go to McKinley," Karofsky confesses. "When I looked it up - when I realised it was you, I figured I could wait after the show to try and meet you." Kurt frowns. "To try and apologise."

"Oh?" Kurt's voice comes out just above a whisper, a little choked.

Karofsky's daughter whines a little to her dad, saying, "I'm _cold_."

Karofsky takes her hand and squeezes and says, "Just a minute, baby, then we can go home. I'll make you milk when we get home, yeah?" She smiles contently up at her dad and nods. Kurt can't help but smile. Karofsky looks back to him and says, "I'm in a different place now and - I'm so sorry. I treated you awfully in high school. I know you guys are here a few more days - is there a way I could take you for coffee? Just to talk - and to really apologise."

Kurt nods, still hesitant, but seeing the difference between his high school thug and the father standing in front of him now. "I'm heading into Lima tomorrow to see my family, so I can make the time then."

Karofsky smiles. "Great."

* * *

"You'll never believe who was at the show today."

"Hm?"

"Dave Karofsky."

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah! He's so different from high school, Blaine, it's crazy. I hardly recognised him. The weirdest thing is, he's got a daughter. He was taking his daughter to a Lady Gaga concert. He came right up to me after the show and he apologized to me for the way he treated me."

"Wow. Wow, Kurt, that's..."

"Amazing, right? He seems so much better than he was. When I visit the family in Lima tomorrow, he's taking me for a coffee. I really hope my first impressions of this new Karofsky are right... it'd be nice for him to have changed for the better. ... ... Blaine? You there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. That's just... that's great. I'm glad for you."

* * *

It might've been something to do with the fact that Kurt was too busy being terrified of him to realise, but he never noticed what a nice smile Karofsky had. He's a charming, funny guy, it turns out, and Kurt has a ball talking with him on their little coffee meet.

Karofsky had, before anything else in the conversation, given Kurt a lengthy apology. "I got help," he explained, "and I knew that I was going to have to man up and be myself for my daughter. I never want her to be me, you know? What I did to you was terrible."

"Speaking of your daughter," Kurt starts, leaning forward. "How did she come about? I had honestly thought you were one hundred percent on my team. I never really saw you with girls. And she'd have been born in high school, how'd you keep that quiet? Word always gets around."

Karofsky frowns and then says, face smoothing out, "I tried being normal. It's my luck that I'd get the first girl I sleep with pregnant, right? I told her about me, and... she understood, somehow, and she was the first person to really know... she went to another school at any rate. The word that I was the dad never got back here. The scandal of more teen moms was getting old, especially after Quinn Fabray."

He smiles, half-fond, but almost bittersweet, "When my little girl turned two I got help to... come out and accept it. I didn't want her to ever be afraid to love who she wants. I'll fight to the death for her right to marry whoever she wants."

Kurt reels, touched. The speech so closely mirrored something Burt had said to him once, and he instinctively reaches across the table to Karofsky and touches his hand, saying, "You have turned into a wonderful person."

Karofsky smiles hesitantly and draws back his hand from Kurt's. Something clicks and Kurt chews his lip. "You're not there yet."

"I don't know if I'll ever be okay with myself," Karofsky admits. "But I'll be okay with whatever my daughter wants." He adds, sounding a little lighter, "My family knows. My close friends. People here and there that are less close. But I..." The man clams up and he looks away, face tense. "I'm not out there. I can't do that."

Kurt nods. In his head he's already planning to help Karofsky. He nods again, firmer, understanding and says, "What's her name?" Karofsky looks confused for a second and Kurt smiles, amused, "Your daughter, Dave."

"Oh. Hannah," he says proudly. "Hannah Smith-Karofsky. She's the best thing I've ever done."

"I hope one day I'll get to have kids, somehow," Kurt muses. "If my career ever slows up. If I ever find anyone to have kids _with_."

"Not taken, then?" Kurt gives Karofsky a sharp look. He holds up his hands, "I didn't mean it like that."

"The closest I've come to a boyfriend ever is my friend Blaine," Kurt admits, "but _that_ never happened. I really thought he liked me for a while - back in high school, obviously, but then... nothing. He's just my best friend and I ive with him. My schedule hasn't even permitted me to go on dates. People have asked, sure... but I haven't got the time. You know, I don't just dance for Gaga. I design clothes for her, I'm her date to everything - "

"Blaine?"

"He came to McKinley with me once to confront you. After..."

"The locker room thing..."

"Yeah." Kurt bursts out, inexplicably, into giggles. "You know, all things aside, you get points for kissing with enthusiasm."

Karofsky stares blankly at Kurt then they both fall into laughter. The past is officially behind them.

* * *

"I've blown my chance. Blown it."

"Blaine, I have to be onstage in twenty minutes, please spit it out."

"Kurt went for coffee today with _Karofsky_. And apparantly he's all reformed and Kurt sounded so happy. Jesus _fuck_, I've really messed this up - "

"Kurt would not date Dave Karofsky even if Karofsky tried to woo him with Alexander McQueen."

"Rachel..."

"I have to go. Talk to Kurt. Just ask him if he's dating Karofsky or not. I bet my future role as Fantine that it will not be a yes."

* * *

Since Blaine got home, he's been sat staring at his phone. What if Kurt doesn't call because he's too busy kissing it up with Karofsky? No, that's silly. Kurt hasn't had a boyfriend before and wouldn't jump in like that. Or would he? No, Kurt has a show tonight, he wouldn't jepoardize that for anything. But still, Kurt usually calls...

"God, _stop_ it, Blaine," he hisses at himself, folding his arms and slumping back on the sofa, pulling off his glasses and throwing them aside. He knows Kurt better than this. He knows Kurt better than to panic and speculate. He'll ask Kurt, plain and simple, if he plans on seeing Karofsky as a romantic thing. That's all it takes, just one question. And when Kurt asks why, Blaine can tell him...

Tell him what? That Blaine loves taking care of Kurt, that he cares so deeply about him, that when Kurt is away for months at a time, it sometimes get hard to resist wanting to curl up in Kurt's bed? That he does everything not because he's a good flatmate, but because he wants to make things easy for Kurt? That he_ loves_ Kurt and would give nothing more and nothing less than all the wealth and happiness in the world to hold hands with him? And there, there it is: he loves Kurt.

And just as Blaine tries to formulate the way to say this, his phone buzzes on the table. Kurt's name flashes up. Blaine picks it up and answers as enthusiastically as he can, "Hey, you."  
"Hey!" Kurt sounds happy, a little breathless. Blaine's mind wants to crawl to ridiculous conclusions - he batters the thoughts away and listens to the rustles and considers that Kurt is getting ready for tonight's show.

"How are you?" Blaine starts, "How's the family?"

"Dad is still worried about my sensitive soul being destroyed by the city - Carole still wants me to design dresses for her. Dad seems more tired, but they're the same as they always are. It's nice. They're such a constant." Kurt sighs happily down the phone line. "Was work alright today?"

"Yeah. I've been helping a young girl deal with her bipolar mom," Blaine rattles off, "Sad, but as long as I'm helping, I don't mind if I have to cry a little at night."

Kurt laughs softly, "Awh. I hope it gets better for her."

"And Karofsky?"

"He's so cool, Blaine." The words make Blaine's chest tighten up and hurt more than just a little. "You can see how different he is. It's a world away, and it's lovely. We're going to keep in touch. I laughed so much, today, you know? He was funny and lovely and I wasn't nervous or worried at all. There are things we have to work through... that he needs to work through, but we'll get there. He's going to be valuable in my life, I think."

Blaine doesn't need to ask if Karofsky and Kurt are dating anymore. He does, however, hesitantly suggest, "Isn't this going a bit fast?"

"No, no. Maybe a bit much to suggest how valuable he'll be, but - I don't think it's too soon. He's out, you know. To friends and family. It's really, really great." Kurt sounds so happy and bright and in contrast, Blaine kind of feels like he wants to sleep and never wake up. He tries to feel happy for Kurt. Kurt's never had a boyfriend, and Blaine has sat through a good few crushes of Kurt's, and none have made him sound as happy as he sounds talking about Karofsky.

"I'm really happy for you," Blaine says softly, and he's not even trying to mask his disappointment, his hurt, but Kurt doesn't seem to notice. That's fine by Blaine. Kurt never even notices when Blaine does all the normal stuff for him: when Blaine saves him the hot water or makes him chicken soup when he's sick. Why should it be any different right now, when Blaine sets his love aside so that Kurt can be happy with someone else?

He's not surprised, but that doesn't mean he isn't hurt. Blaine bites his tonue as Kurt says, blissed out and ignorant, "Thank you, Blaine. Any way - oh, hold on. I have another call incoming. Give me a second."

Blaine frowns into his phone and sighs, waiting quietly for Kurt to come back on the line. It takes a few minutes, and when he does, Kurt exclaims, "I left my McQueen scarf in Dave's car!"  
Blaine's stomach knots. Times like this, Blaine would give anything for Wes and David to still be around and not be all strange and co-dependant somewhere on the Las Vegas Strip. They'd happily go and rescue Kurt from the clutches of Karofsky for him. "Why were you in his car?"

"He drove me to the train station. I took the train down to Lima."

"Oh, that's grand," Blaine breathes, unable to keep the sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Kurt goes silent on the other end of the phone. Blaine bites his tongue, almost regretting what he said but not quite, waiting for the response. When it comes, it's coated in anger. "Excuse me?"

"Nothing," Blaine says, huffing a sigh. "Nothing, Kurt. Have a good show." He hangs up without another word and turns his phone off, and then closes his eyes, slumping back on the sofa.

_Fuck._

_

* * *

_

"Are you gonna tell me what that snap was about yesterday? There's harmless sarcasm, Blaine, and then there was the attitude you were giving me. Do you have a problem with me seeing Dave?"

"What the hell do you think? Of course I have a problem with you seeing him. He bullied you. He threatened your life. And you're acting like it never happened. As if he never hurt you or did any damage at all. You've just welcomed him into your arms like you're desperate."

"Excuse me? That's rich, coming from the guy who has a need to fix everyone because he couldn't fix his own damn life when he was in high school!"

"Wow, Kurt. _Wow_. Do you know what? I'm sorry that I have a problem with you jumping on this guy. Going for coffee, for car rides - "

"We're adults! It's not like I'm ten and he's a predator, Blaine!"

"Do you remember what happened in that locker room, Kurt?"

"Of course I do. I've spent the last six years of my life trying to get over it."

"Then why are you so sure he wouldn't force himself on you again?"

"...Did you really just say that?"

"Kurt, I - "

"Save it."

* * *

Kurt doesn't talk to Blaine for the rest of the tour. He didn't know why Blaine has a problem with his friendship with Karofsky, and Kurt didn't care to know, either. If Blaine wanted to man up and apologise and explain his actions, that'd be fantastic, but he'd have to call Kurt himself. He was not going to do the running when he'd done nothing wrong.

Thing is, is that he's back in the city now for five days. The VMAs is tomorrow night, but apart from that, he has four whole days where he has to spend time with Blaine. He normally wouldn't complain, because Blaine is his best friend, but the lack of talking... things feel like they'll be awkward.

So when Kurt enters their apartment, he decides to pretend their blow out never happened. "Hey," he says softly, dropping his bag by the couch. Blaine is half-asleep and starts with a jolt, scrambling upright and smiling blearily at Kurt. "You know, you have a bed for sleeping in."

"I was waiting for you to come home," Blaine shrugs, and Kurt's stomach flips a little. So things are okay between them, maybe. "Was the ride back okay?"

"Unbearably long," Kurt admits. "Not talking to you..." He sucks in a deep breath. "I missed you a lot." An unreadable expression flickers across Blaine's face for a second, and Blaine quietly stands up and hugs Kurt. Kurt tips his face down and nuzzles into Blaine's shoulder, and despite all his planning to forget their fight and just move on, against his better judgement he says, "I still don't understand why you would say that."

"Because I don't trust Karofsky," Blaine mutters, "and unless I meet him face to face and am proven otherwise I probably never will."

Kurt pulls away, holding Blaine at arm's length with a frown. "Why can't you trust my judgement? Why can't you trust me to make the right decision? I was so afraid of Dave even afer all this time. But when I really talked to him I stopped being scared. I knew he'd changed. Why can't you accept that?"

Blaine scowls and shoves Kurt off him, striding away into the kitchen. Kurt drops his jaw, glaring after him. "Don't you walk away from me! I am talking to you!" He stamps after Blaine and blocks the kitchen doorway, ensuring Blaine can't strop off again, and says, "What is your problem? Is this even about Dave? Because you've been acting so depressed since before I even left."

"Oh, so you did notice?" Blaine's eyebrows go up, and Kurt furrows his own. Blaine throws his hands up and steps forward. "Maybe I'm just sick of living on my own nearly all of the time because you're always off on your tours. I work all day, and I come home, and I talk to myself and you know sometimes I talk to Rachel, just because she's the closest thing to a friend I've got right now? I don't have it _so fucking easy_, I don't get to be you and jet off around the country making ten times the pay!"

Kurt folds his arms. "If you have such a big problem with it, then why don't you do something about it?"

Blaine's face drops and he folds his arms as well, mirroring Kurt. "You know what? I am. You should find your own place."

Kurt's arms drop to his sides and he steps back as Blaine goes past. He wants to ask if Blaine means it, that _please_ no, he can't lose his closest friend, but his pride won't let him, so he pushes back tears and picks up his bag. He looks at Blaine one more time, his place now sat on the couch with his head in his hands, and walks by, and shuts himself in his bedroom.

_Deep breathing_, Kurt says to himself. _Deep breathing_. And then he lies back on his bed and does his best not to fall apart.

* * *

"Can I come stay after tomorrow night? Just until... I go on tour again. I just wanted to see you guys."

"Sure you can, babydoll. We'd love to see you. I'll tell Rachel to line up your favourite movies for a marathon, yeah?"

"Thank you, Mercedes. I can't wait."

"Is Blaine okay with this?"

"... I. Uh. Yeah, actually, it was his idea. He says I see too much of him and not enough of you."

* * *

Kurt hasn't been in all day. He stayed in his room all evening and when Blaine went to apologise the following morning, it was empty. Blaine feels like a top of the list idiot - which he is, of course. He shouldn't have said that to Kurt. He didn't mean to say it. It just sort of came out.

He's tried calling Kurt, but his phone has been switched off all day. Understandable, Blaine supposes. He's probably very busy with Gaga.

Blaine, on the opposite, doesn't leave the house all day. He paces, and mopes, and briefly contemplates settling into a quiet life of alcoholism before he realises that idea is just as brilliant as the idea of asking Kurt to move out - which is, to say, not at all.

His eventual choice is sleep. It's restless and unhappy and he wakes up a lot but it's something, and it passes the time. He wakes up properly just in time to re-enter the living room and see, on the television, Gaga smiling broadly and talking about her newest album. Kurt is on her arm, looking a thousand times more beautiful than the woman he's not supposed to outshine, and Blaine truly, _truly_ realises what an idiot he's been.

What if Kurt had gotten a boyfriend years ago? Would Blaine have reacted this way then? Is he really so frustrated just because it's Karofsky? Kurt is right; Blaine should trust his judgement. If Kurt trusts him this much he can't be the most awful man in the world and it's not something that Blaine should get angry over.

And yes, he's jealous._ Insanely_ so. He loves Kurt, honestly does, and seeing him happy with someone else - seeing his chance lost before he could even take it - is killing him even now.  
Blaine sits forward, watching Kurt intently. His eyes are focused on the interviewer and Gaga, but every other moment Kurt's gaze flickers to the camera as if wondering who is watching. Or maybe Blaine is wishing too much, reading too much into things.

He's falling into a trance, staring at the person he's messed it up so badly with, when the phone rings. He jumps, nearly falling off the sofa before he grabs it and squints at the caller ID. He answers. "Rachel."

"Are you watching him on television right now? Oh, my god, he looks so suave! He's so polished and proffessional! And his outfit - gorgeous! I really hope they talk to him at some point tonight and ask him what it's like being famous for being a beautiful woman's gay best friend... I want to see his face. He would absolutely want to die. He hates that 'fag hag' nonsense the media spins. God, I am so glad I took the night off to watch this. Of course my understudy could never be as fantastic as I am, but supporting Kurt is more important to me."

"I'm watching him," Blaine responds, amused. On the television, Gaga kisses Kurt on the cheek and he kisses back, grinning proudly. Another award ceremony is another night for Kurt to get all proud as his heroine and now friend sweeps the board. Even when they were younger, Kurt would cry as the Lady went home with another armful of awards. "He looks good..." They wave on the television and then they're both gone, Kurt taking Gaga's hand to steady her down some stairs and then walk away down the red carpet with her. "There they go."

"How come you told Kurt to come stay with us, by the way?"

Blaine startles, confused. "Uh."

Rachel sounds suspicious. "I thought you would've wanted to take this as a good opportunity to get romantic with him, not ship him off."

"He's seeing Karofsky," Blaine deflects, then confesses - since she'll find out anyway, "I told Kurt he should move out." Rachel gasps and Blaine can too-clearly picture her mortified expression. "I don't know how it happened! I've been so jealous and frustrated over Karofsky and then we had a blow out and - it just came out. I didn't mean to. I wanted to apologise today but he left whilst I was still asleep this morning."

"Blaine Anderson," Rachel begins incredulously, "I am the most self destructive person I know and I have still not managed to tell someone to move out instead of saying I love them! You are an idiot!"

"I know," Blaine starts, but Rachel isn't done.

"Kurt is the best thing that will ever happen to you, even just as a friend! I can't believe you would be so petty! I am appalled, Blaine Anderson! You should grow up! I only hope it's not too late and that Kurt can forgive you because I assume you are going to apologise the second that you see him - and if you don't, well, Blaine Anderson, me and Mercedes are going to flour bomb your car!"

"I don't own a car," Blaine frowns. "Nobody in the city owns a car, Rachel."

"Fine! We'll flour bomb _you_, Blaine Anderson! And one more thing - "

"Rachel," Blaine interrupts softly, "I'm going to hang up on you now."

* * *

"Dave Karofsky?"

"Yeah? Who's this?"

"Rachel Berry. I was a victim of your ten o'clock slushies back in McKinley High. I was the star of the Glee club. I was also simultaneously your favourite victim and also someone you found highly attractive, which I suppose I should be offended by since you're totally and utterly gay, but - "

"I'm not gay."

"Oh, please. Kurt Hummel is one of my best friends. He told me. I know everything, from when you kissed him into the locker rooms right up to the fact that you are almost but not quite out of the closet. You'd be a brilliant candidate for a tortured actor if you were talented or beautiful."

"... Right. How did you get my number?"

"Google, Dave Karofsky. It is my oldest friend after my collection of Broadway CDs and memorabilia. Anyway, I wanted to have a word with you about Kurt. He is not someone you are allowed to hurt. Do not take advantage of him, Karofsky. Do not - "

"Wait, what? I'm not interested in Kurt as anything more than a friend - I don't want to and don't plan on taking advantage of him or anyone."

"So... You're not dating him?"

"No."

"_Blaine!_"

* * *

"Please don't go." Kurt jumps at the sound of the voice and straightens up from where he's packing his bag. He turns and looks at Blaine and sighs.

"Do I have anything to stay for?" He turns back, folding his shirt and stuffing it in the bag. "You made your feelings perfectly clear last night. I'm only sorry you didn't express them sooner. It could have saved us both."

"I don't want you to go," Blaine insists, grabbing Kurt's hands before he can fold another shirt and pack more of his life away. Kurt gazes down at the grip and pulls his hands stubbornly away, looking down. Blaine clasps at his hands and this time, Kurt just lets him.

"I'm sorry for everything I've said to you lately," Blaine murmurs. "I've been treating you badly ever since I heard Karofsky was back in your life and been moping long before that... It's dumb and... I don't know why I've been acting that way." He hesitates and Kurt narrows his eyes. "Well, I do know. I just don't have the courage to say..."

"Courage!" Kurt says in a small, chipper voice, encouraging a laugh out of Blaine. As appropriate as that first text Blaine had ever sent Kurt was, in their more recent years it's become a sort of joke. It makes Blaine smile. And also proves a point.

"I love you," Blaine tells Kurt, squeezing his hand. Kurt blinks, lost for words, and Blaine spins off into his own world. "God! It's been so long and I only just really realised that all this time... And watch it, this is sappier than any love song, cheesier than any teenage dream, but... it has always unchangingly, faithfully, been you. And I've been unfathomably jealous. If I missed my chance it was through only my own fault, but I've been taking it out on you as though it's yours. And if he makes you happy, I've realised, then... I should be happy too."

"I've wanted to date you since the moment I met you," Kurt whispers, and he's not sure why. It just feels like he's telling a secret, he supposes. "I even told Dave that you're the closest I've ever come to having a boyfriend. I'd call you my other half if pressed." He pauses and leans away from Blaine and says, "Wait. Who makes me happy? Do you think I'm dating Karofsky?"

Blaine blinks. "Aren't you?"

"No, you imbecile! Why the hell would I ever date my former bully? Friends, yes, dating, not ever!" Kurt smacks Blaine hard in the chest and he winces. "He is a chubby man who looks a touch the wrong side of thirty when he's not even in his late twenties, he has a daughter, and he's not even out of the closet at large! Do I really act that desperate to you? Do you really think my standards are that low?"

Blaine rubs his chest, wondering where the sweet and quiet, precious moment they were sharing went. He stares up at Kurt and starts, "No, I just - "

"Just what, mistook me for a tramp? I will have you know that for years upon years my standards have been so high that not a single date could have ever worked out! My standards got set in high school - intelligent, funny, handsome, kind, charming _midgets_ like you! Not just like you," Kurt takes a deep breath, pushing his hair from his forehead and pointing angrily, "Exactly like you! Because there is only one person like that and that is you! But you can scratch intelligent off that damn list, clearly."

Blaine tilts his head. "What are you trying to say?"

Kurt smoothes the front of his shirt and says in a shaky voice, "I am saying that you, as my boyfriend, should kiss me and then we should go to bed and do something."

"_Kurt_," Blaine exclaimed, eyebrows raised.

Kurt's face flushes bright pink. "Frankly, I should have lost my virginity to you five or six years ago. And I think doing that now would be a better exercise of my frustration than doing pilates." Blaine stares at him. "Please kiss me. I'm starting to get embarrassed."

So Blaine does, grasping Kurt around the waist and tipping his mouth up into his. Kurt makes a funny little noise and grabs at Blaine's biceps, leaning down and into it, and then Kurt pulls away, and says softly, "Now onto the next part."


End file.
